


Crimson Veil

by TheEigthPillarGeneral



Category: The Prince of Egypt (1998)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Prophetic Dreams, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEigthPillarGeneral/pseuds/TheEigthPillarGeneral
Summary: A trek to the riverbank to fetch water and a relaxing trip on the royal barge down the Nile results in a brief, unexpected encounter between Yocheved and Prince Moses.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40
Collections: a lie strong and settled





	Crimson Veil

**Author's Note:**

> This was a kind-of "What if" scenario I had in my head: what if Moses had had a brief encounter with Yocheved at some point in his life as a prince? And so this fic was born.
> 
> This is set two years before the movie's events.
> 
> I also listened to a lot of Ofra Haza while writing this story, and it's safe to say that she's now one of my favourite singers. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Summer in Egypt is absolute torture, for it is when the desert heat, already unrelenting for the most part, is at its worst. And for the Hebrews, the heat is when the labour becomes the most miserable. The overseers become angrier and harsher than usual, and their only relief comes in the form of very short water breaks in the afternoon. Even then, there’s a set amount of time for them to have their drink.

Any longer than that, and they’ll be flogged.

Today, however, is much hotter than expected. So Yocheved and some other women are sent down to the Nile to collect more water to fill up the well.

Yocheved moves a bit slower than usual, singing despite the harsh heat beating down on her. Her face is beginning to show signs of aging, yet time has been unusually kind to her for the most part.

“How much longer until we reach the Nile?” Chen, one of the newly-turned eighteen-year-old girls, asks.

“I feel faint…” Diklah, one of the younger women, sighs. And indeed, she looks faint; her face is flushed, and she looks to be in desperate need of water.

“We’re almost there, Diklah,” Yocheved tells her. “Just a little bit longer, and we’ll be at the Nile.”

To think that she’d once been as young as them, relying on the guidance of Hava to get through a work day. Now it’s Yocheved’s turn to become the older, more worldly mentor to these girls and young women, as well as to her own daughter and son.

Before long, they finally reach the bank of the Nile.

“Finally, we’re here!” Chen says, relieved.

Diklah is quick to rush toward the water, desperate for a drink to quench her unbearable thirst.

 _Poor thing…_ Yocheved thinks as she watches the younger woman gulp down the water. _She must’ve been really parched…_

Yocheved carefully wades into the water, sighing in relief at the pleasantly cool sensation against her feet. She splashes some water onto her face and the back of her neck, and instantly, she feels more rejuvenated.

As she fills her urn with water, she starts to sing an old Hebrew love song that had been sung on her wedding day. It’s a fast-paced, infectiously merry song that has the other women joining in singing the lyrics with her. Yocheved might be growing old now, but one thing that hasn’t been affected is her singing voice. Her voice is as vibrant as it had been in the height of her youth, and her songs still lift the spirits of the other Hebrews in the construction site and attract the interest of the Egyptian peasants and labourers.

While repeating the chorus, Yocheved carefully lifts the full urn in her arms. As she straightens up, that’s when she notices the royal barge sailing down the Nile, and she cannot help but stare as she sings.

Upon the barge, which sails close enough for anyone at the riverbank to get a good look at the occupants, are the two young princes of Egypt, both looking as splendid as always. It’s her first time actually seeing them out here on the Nile, but Yocheved knows she cannot watch them for too long.

But as she turns to leave the river, she steals another glance at the barge, and that’s when she notices that the prince with the black wig, Prince Moses, is looking in her direction.

Yocheved can’t help but frown slightly. _Is it really…?_

Miriam had told her back then that she saw her littlest brother being found by the queen, who is now raising him as a prince. Since then, she has been so strongly optimistic that he will come back and deliver them from slavery. Aaron, however, has been very skeptical, never truly believing her.

And while Yocheved has wanted to believe Miriam’s story, it’s been so long since she last saw him. And he had been but a baby back then. Will she be able to recognize him right now?

Cautiously, she hazards a glance at him, and a jolt runs down her spine as she stops singing.

Prince Moses is looking at her with curious eyes, listening to her song; eyes that she recognizes almost immediately. There’s no kohl typical of Egyptians lining his eyes, and unlike the other prince, he has a small goatee forming upon his chin.

He may be clothed as Egyptian royalty, but a mother will always recognize her child’s eyes, even if they’ve been separated for the longest of time.

“Yocheved?” Chen’s voice snaps her out of her reverie, and she turns to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” Diklah asks.

Yocheved just shakes her head. “It’s nothing, I… nothing,” she says, making her way to the shore. “Sorry.”

“We should get going,” Diklah reminds her. “We don’t want to risk the overseers’ anger.”

“You’re right,” Yocheved says, getting out of the river. “Let’s go.”

And as they head back to the construction site with the water, Yocheved suddenly feels a pang in her heart; one she hasn’t felt in sixteen years.

* * *

The air is unusually quiet in hot weather. Perhaps it’s because of this stillness that Moses and Rameses normally end up racing chariots through the city, much to their father’s chagrin.

But today, it’s way too hot even for chariot racing. So now he and Rameses are taking an afternoon trip on the royal barge down the Nile, hoping to cool down a little bit. The only other company with them are the rowers, three guards, two fan-bearers, and a servant.

Rameses is the very image of royalty, reclined on a blue and gold chair beneath the canopy in the center of the boat, his eyes closed as he enjoys the lazy breeze from the feather fans on both sides of him.

In contrast, Moses rests upon the floor of the boat, just watching the activity at the riverbanks. Peasants mill about at various spots, either washing clothes, cooling off, or collecting water for their wells, and their voices carry over in the air.

“What are you thinking about, Moses?” Rameses asks, gently poking Moses’ back with his foot.

Moses doesn’t turn his eyes away. “I'm thinking that you need to learn to sit on the floor and watch the riverbank with me,” he says, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Oh?” There’s a smile in Rameses’ voice.

“It’s much more fascinating to watch than the river,” Moses continues. “You can also listen to some interesting stories from the peasants there.”

“Like what?”

Closing his eyes, Moses listens to the snippets of conversations that he’s able to hear clearly. “Someone’s going to marry her childhood sweetheart,” he says, then snickers as he catches a man's angry ranting. “Someone’s apparently getting cuckolded by his wife.” 

Rameses snickers. “And? What else do you hear?”

“Another one is having problems with his brother, it seems,” Moses adds.

“Maybe because he likes to eavesdrop on conversations like you,” Rameses teases.

Moses opens his eyes, smirking slightly at Rameses. “Oh really? Well, maybe it’s because his brother is much too uptight like you,” he teases back.

“You call it ‘uptight’, I call it ‘preparing for the crown’,” Rameses retorts.

“Same goes for you. You call it ‘eavesdropping’, and I call it ‘acquiring information’,” Moses says.

Rameses just pokes Moses with his foot again, and Moses swiftly uses the opportunity to turn and steal Rameses’ sandal, grinning as he slides it right off his foot.

“Hey! Give that back!” Rameses protests, laughing as he sits up.

Moses laughs and holds it away from Rameses’ reach before giving it back to him, smiling as Rameses takes it and puts it back on while chuckling.

It’s so easy to make him laugh and smile, and Moses prides himself in being the one who can bring that smile on his brother’s face.

Being a crown prince is not easy; Rameses has a lot of responsibilities upon him, and now that he’s nineteen, he’s going to be a lot busier soon. Moments like these, where Rameses can rid himself of the burden on his shoulders, if only for a little while, are much needed for him. He may be the future Morning and Evening Star, but he’s only human.

So until he ascends to the throne, Moses will always goad him into being an older brother who can tease him. In fact, he’ll keep on doing so, even after Rameses takes the throne.

 _After all, what else are little brothers for?_ Moses thinks to himself.

Right then, the sound of singing gets the brothers’ attention, and they stop their teasing as they listen to the melodic voices.

Moses becomes silent, and he turns his gaze to the riverbank. The barge slows down slightly, but he doesn’t notice.

“Moses?” Rameses asks, raising a painted eyebrow.

“Shh,” Moses hushes him as he listens to the song and turns his gaze to the source of the singing.

He sees a group of Hebrew women at the riverbank, filling urns with water as they sing a rather merry song. Most of the women are young, but there is an older-looking woman with a crimson head-covering among them, her surprisingly youthful voice rising over the others’.

It’s her voice that gets their attention the most.

The woman’s dreamlike voice casts a spell on Moses, who is utterly fascinated. It's unlike any of the court singers he’s heard at banquets; there’s something so haunting and unique in her voice, in how she sings the melody. In fact, he’s not the only one affected.

Even Rameses is transfixed by her voice. And so are the guards, the fan-bearers, rowers, and servant.

The voice pierces deep into Moses’ soul, sending a chill down his spine as he realizes that she sounds vaguely… familiar. Did he hear this woman’s voice in a dream? Moses isn’t sure, yet it almost feels like he’s heard her before.

And oddly enough, despite the haunting tone, there’s something in her voice that gives a strangely maternal comfort to him. 

Curiously, Moses regards the woman with the crimson veil, watching as she turns to leave the river.

But then she pauses and glances in his direction, looking back at him with surprise and curiosity in her eyes. That’s when she stops singing. Yet the spell doesn’t break at all.

The Hebrew woman… Moses swears he’s never seen her before, and yet… there’s something so familiar about her.

He doesn’t know why, but something about her draws him to her. For some reason, he finds himself wondering if she ever sang to her own children with that hauntingly-beautiful voice.

One of the younger women from the shore calls out to the woman with the crimson veil, and she turns away from him, leaving the water to rejoin her companions. 

Instantly, the spell breaks, but Moses feels an unusual ache in his heart.

“Moses?” Rameses’ worried voice cuts through his thoughts. “Moses, are you alright?”

Moses glances back at Rameses, noticing the concern upon his face.

With a slight smile, Moses nods. “I’m alright, Rameses,” he reassures.

“You were quite focused on that woman’s singing,” Rameses points out. “Why was that?”

Well, Moses isn’t really going to tell him about his dreams or anything like that. Neither is he going to say that the woman looks strangely familiar. There are some things that brothers just don’t share, no matter how close they are.

“I just… I’ve never heard a voice so beautiful before,” Moses tells him. “Not even the court singers can sound like that woman.”

Rameses raises an eyebrow. “Well, don’t let them hear you say that,” he says lightly. “They’ll be insulted if you insinuate that a slave’s voice is better than theirs.”

Moses chuckles. “You’re right about that,” he agrees.

He tries not to think too much about the Hebrew woman, but her singing echoes in his ears for the rest of the day, and continues even after the sun has set below the horizon. Not even the sweetly-perfumed incense is able to calm him down, and even his dogs are unable to successfully distract him from her voice.

When Moses goes to sleep that night, he just knows that he’s going to have a nightmare.

Except it’s not a nightmare. It’s a very sad dream.

In the dream, Moses stands on the bank of the Nile, wearing his princely clothing. How he got there, he has no idea. There’s a gentle breeze blowing, but it’s so strangely quiet. There are no other people, and neither are there any signs of birds or other animals.

Right then, he somehow senses another presence, and he turns around to see the Hebrew slave woman with the crimson veil standing before him. However, she looks much younger right now. She looks so beautiful, a different kind of beautiful compared to the regal beauty of Tuya. This woman possesses a gentle beauty, and Moses cannot help but feel drawn to her. 

She regards him with sad eyes as she opens her mouth to speak.

Moses doesn’t know why, but he cannot hear her. Her lips move, yet no words come.

Even so, he feels a strange urge to hug her, to comfort her. Never mind that she’s a slave; something about her makes him feel as though he should help her. He tries to ask her what’s wrong, but he receives no answer. Instead, the woman smiles, and tears slide down her cheeks. She reaches out to Moses with both hands, gently caressing his face.

A slave has no business touching a prince of Egypt; Moses has been raised to believe that. To touch a prince is to touch divinity, and a slave should know better than to do such a thing. But the woman’s hands feel so familiar and gentle, and for some reason, he doesn’t want to push her away, not when she’s smiling so sadly. Instead, he leans into her gentle, motherly touch.

She then tilts his face down slightly and stands on the tips of her toes, and that’s when Moses feels her lips press a kiss upon his forehead.

It’s so warm, so loving, and Moses feels an unusual ache in his heart when the woman withdraws her hands.

Before he can say anything, the woman steps back with a smile, and she starts to fade.

Moses reaches out to her again, feeling strangely distressed at this. The woman just smiles at him, the wind blowing through her hair before she disappears completely.

And then he wakes up in his bedchambers, his cheeks wet with tears, his heart aching.

The woman’s singing echoes in Moses’ ears again, and he just curls in on himself. He feels lost, oddly enough; almost as if he were a child again.

And he doesn’t know why. Not really.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore the idea of Moses having a chance encounter with Yocheved before he discovers his true heritage and identity, especially if he happens to hear her sing, which is why I wrote this story.
> 
> Please let me know how I did, and have a good one!


End file.
